An Undeniable Plural
by GirlWithTheRedSoxCap
Summary: Arya and Gendry. Gendry and Arya. She was a rebel without a cause who only ever seemed to make mistakes, while he was the supposedly perfect boy with a legacy and expectations casting a shadow over him. She got into trouble like it was an art form while he was hailed as the golden boy. But somehow, they worked. Arya and Gendry. Gendry and Arya. An undeniable plural. *HIATUS*
1. Chapter 1: A Good Bad Influence

**So here's my first Game of Thrones / A Song of Ice and Fire fic. Arya and Gendry Modern AU.**

 **Chapter One: Good Bad Influence**

"What are you doing?"

"Depends. Are you going to judge me?" Her back was to him as he leaned against the door frame

She was staring down at the rusty faucets and slightly yellow tinged water.

"Well, that really depends if that's blood you're cleaning off your shirt."

"Says the guy in the girls' bathroom."

He cracks a smile. "Touché."

She gives a small smirk and pulls her shirt over head without a second thought. She lets the tap water run over it, soaking it through. Arya's wearing a simple charcoal grey bra. There's nothing special about it, it's just a plain old bra, but Gendry can't stop staring, so instead, he crosses his arms against his chest and leans against the chipped green wall, focusing on Arya's beat up Chuck Taylors as she anxiously taps her foot against the checkered tiles. He's actively trying not to blush and look at her chest, even though he kinda sort of really wants to.

She won't look at him.

Gendry sighs and runs a hand through his already disheveled black hair. He studies the crimson stained sink. He glances at the angry red blotches on Arya's half soaked shirt that she had been vigorously scrubbing with disintegrating paper towels.

"You've gotta stop doing this, Arya. One more fight and you're gonna get expelled."

He walks over and turns off the tap and grabs a wad of paper towels starts wiping the sink clean as she slips her damp shirt back on.

She rolls her eyes. "Why should I care? It's not like I can learn anything from the public school system, anyways."

Gendry chucks the wad bloody and damp paper towels in the trash can and turns on the tap and lets the last of the blood wash down the drain as she slips her damp shirt back on.

He looks over at his best friend.

She looks pale and defeated. Her stormy grey eyes are those of someone who has suffered and lost more than anyone ever should in a lifetime and they look out of place on her face, the one that makes people think she is thirteen rather than fifteen.

Gendry runs a hand through his already disheveled hair, a reflex of his when he doesn't quite know what to do. Which is most of the time, hence is permanently messy hair. "What happened to proving everyone wrong?" He asks the small girl. "To showing them that you aren't what they all think? That you aren't just some… delinquent."

Arya grips the edge of the sink behind her, her knuckles turning ghostly pale and bloodless as she glares down at generic pattern that the black and white checkered tiles made on the grimy floor.

"Are you just going to run away and hide like Sansa does when things get bad?"

"I am _not_ my sister." She voice was like shards of glass. Broken and dangerous.

"Then prove it." He challenges her.

She stubbornly shakes her head as she analyzes her best friend's profile. The rumpled hair and iridescent eyes. His easy smile and the little black mole on his left cheek near his dimple.

Being the star soccer player made him one of the most popular guys in school. Everyone knew _the_ _bull_ who would take them to the state championship again this year.

He was still innocent. The world hadn't quite beaten him down. Not yet.

That was the biggest difference between the two best friends. Not tall and short. Not light and dark. Not popular and feared. Not rich and poor.

It was innocent and scarred.

It wasn't obvious, from the outside, but it ran the deepest. And Arya would do anything to protect him from that world for as long as possible.

Sure, his mother had died when he was young and his father was a dick, but his Uncle Renly had taken care of him.

The world hadn't broken him. Not yet. And Arya would do everything in her power to make damn sure that it never did.

"Why'd ya do it?" Arya may have a quick temper but its always in reaction to something else. Someone else. She always had a reason, even if it wasn't a good one.

"They called him a psychotic bastard who deserves to be locked up. They said I was going to end up just like him. And dad."

The last part came out as barely a whisper, but Gendry hears it. He steps towards her until theres hardly any distance left. He puts his hand on her slightly shaking shoulders. She seems so small standing next to him. He lifts Arya's chin to look her in the eyes.

"Arya, you know that's not true. And your brother... well, he... I mean... Look. You can't just go around breaking people's noses and handing out black eyes like they're lunch tickets."

Arya rolls her eyes and looks away.

"Do you think that's what Jon would want? If he was here? What would he think of you to getting into fights on his behalf and almost getting expelled for it?"

"But he's not here." She whispers it, as if she's hoping that her words weren't true.

But they are.

Her eyes study the graffiti on the bathroom stall doors.

He stares at her for a minute, before blurting out, "Come on, let's get milkshakes at Pie's."

She gives him a devilish smirk. "That would involve ditching class, Mr. Baratheon."

He shrugs. "I know. But its Friday and like you always say 'rules were made to be broken.'"

And just like that, Arya is back to her usual self. " _The_ Golden Boy? Ditching class? I never thought I'd live to see the day!" She over-dramatically throws her hand over her heart and gasps in mock surprise.

Gendry just chuckles at her antics. "What can I say? I guess that I've had a good bad influence."

She grins and attempts to shoulder checks her best friend. "Damn right."

"Now hurry up and get your stuff so we can get the hell out of here already."

 **Please favorite and review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Stupid Is Not a Nice Word

**So this is now going to be an actual story, not just a one shot. Enjoy and don't forget to review and favorite and follow and all that!**

 **2\. Stupid Is Not A Nice a Word**

Arya tosses her book bag and a half-full carton of cigarettes on the back bench Gendry's truck, before jumping through the passenger's side door.

Gendry's little cousin, Shireen, had aptly named the truck Thomas, after Thomas the Tank Engine. It's one of those old trucks with no real seats just two benches, one in the front and one in the back. The car is rusty and its blue paint is chipped and faded from the years of pouring rain and scorching sun. Gendry had built it back up from a shell and would talk about it and carburetors and spark plugs for hours on end if Arya let him.

(She rarely did).

The truck older than Gendry but the glorified hunk of metal is his most prized possession.

Arya flips on her favorite indie college radio station that only plays bands with annoying ironic names as Gendry backs out of sophomore parking lot.

"Do you have an extra shirt I could wear? One that's not so... bloody?" Arya glances down at her stained shirt and grins sheepishly.

"Yeah. I git a baseball jersey is somewhere in the back."

Arya twists around in her seat and rummages around through the lacrosse pads, chemistry homework, and baseball caps before replacing her stained band t-shirt with Gendry's Red Sox jersey that is at least three sizes too big for her.

She wriggled out of her current t-shirt without hesitation before slipping his over her head, causing her already messy hair become even wilder before She pulls her hair out of the collar and readjusts herself on the bench before refastening her seatbelt.

"Who's was it?"

"Who's was what?" She asks, throwing her scuffed Chuck Taylors up on the dashboard.

"The blood. Who's was it? And don't put your dirty sneakers on my dash."

Arya twirls a lock of dark hair around her finger and stares out the window.

"Joffrey. Turns out he's a bleeder."

Gendry chuckles and taps his finger on the steering wheel. "He's a condescending asshat. And a coward. Even if he is my brother." Gendry grumbles.

Arya looks over at her best friend and smirks. "Asshat?"

"It's a word."

"Yeah, a stupid one."

"Is not!" He retorts like a petulant child.

"Yes, it is. A stupid word for a stupid bull," She taunts.

"Hey, swear jar. Stupid is not a nice word."

"It might not be a nice word but it's not a bad word. And besides, I don't see our little brothers anywhere!" She ducks to look under the seat, "Rickon? Tommen, are you there?" She calls.

Arya's inky ponytail pops back up and she grins. "No small and supposedly innocent children are in this truck. Which means no swear jar."

Gendry just grins and pulls into the patch of broken asphalt that serves as the parking lot for Pie's diner.

"Can I ask you a question?"

They were sitting in the bed of Gendry's pick up, parked on a cliff overlooking the ocean.

Arya raises an eyebrow and sips her milkshake. "That is a question."

"Smartass."

She smirks. "Yeah, ask me."

"Do you think he's innocent?"

Arya looks up from her double chocolate milkshake and bites her lip, staring out at the cold water for a moment before answering. "Maybe what happened to with that's gang and the Bolton's is Jon's fault and maybe it's not. That's not what matter.s Jon lied to me. He lied to me about... him.

"Then why do you go around giving black eyes to everyone who calls him a psychopath or a killer?"

Arya places her half-finished milkshake beside her in the truck bed.

"Because no matter what stupid shit he does, he's still my big brother. He's still the Jon who spent three weeks sleeping in an armchair in the NICU because he refused to leave my side. He will always be the kid who stuck up for me and played with me when no one else would. He protected me from the world when I couldn't protect myself."

She pauses. "But now... Jon lied to me. My whole life, he's been the only person I know I can count on. I watch my mother be disappointed in me because I wasn't like Sansa, and I resented her for it. But I didn't resent her when I watched them bury her casket next to dad's. I've watched Robb grow up and be given the responsibility of his siblings and the family company far too young. And my father…" Arya chokes on her words.

"I watched them slander, condemn and kill him."

Gendry glances over at his best friend. No one hates pity more than Arya Lyanna Stark. But it's hard not to feel bad for someone when they witnessed their father's assassination as a child.

"It's always been Jon and me against the world."

Gendry silently nods. He knows the siblings' mantra. He could almost hear Jon's quiet yet powerful voice. "You and me kid." And Arya's response of, "You and me big brother" before interlocking their pinky fingers.

"I'll forgive him because I know that when he walks into that room in handcuffs and sit down at the table, I'll break. He doesn't deserve to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. He doesn't deserve for me to forgive him. But I will. Because he's Jon."

"Has he tried to contact you this week? Explain? Ask you to visit?"

"He called me on Sunday, just like he does every week. For some reason, this time, I decided to pick up. I didn't say a word. I think I was holding my breath. He said was "I just need you to be alright, kid." And then I hung up."

She looks over at her best friend, her steel colored eyes watery. "I'm just not ready yet."

He nods and pulls her into his arms.

Arya's shivering a bit, and it's not from cold mist rolling off of the water.

Gendry gives her one final squeeze. "So, the uh, the Winter Ball..."

"Yeah?"

Gendry rubs the back of his neck. "I kinda wanna ask someone."

"Ok." She draws it out as if to ask "does this conversation have a point?"

"I just don't know if they'll say yes."

Arya snorts on her milkshake. "Are you kidding me? What girl is going to say no to the Golden Boy?"

Gendry chuckles. "You'd be surprised."

Arya rolls her eyes. "Give me a name."

"No."

"Oh, come on. How can I help you if I don't know who it is?"

"I highly doubt that you'd actually help me instead of teasing me so I'm not going to tell you."

"Why? Is it embarrassing? Are you going to ask Mrs. Modrane?"

"I am not asking our seventy-year-old home ec teacher."

"Is it a guy?"

"What? No! It's a girl definitely a girl!"

"Then just tell me!"

"I'm seriously regretting ever bringing this up."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please with sprinkles and marshmallows and rainbows on top?"

"Rainbows?"

"Tell me." She shoves him and he falls back on the bed of the truck, laughing in amusement.

"No. Stop shoving me!"

"Not until you tell me!"

"Fine!"

"Fine, you'll tell me?"

"No, fine I'm going to get you to stop shoving me."

"How?"

Gendry starts tickling her and Arya shrieks. They're rolling around in the bed of his truck laughing and yelling.

"Okay! Okay, I surrender! You win!"

Gendry grins.

His best friend is pinned under him. Arya's dark hair fans out around and her cheeks are rosy and her breath comes in pants.

He doesn't know if his best friends have realized that romance and dating and boyfriends even exist. He doesn't know where he will go to college or if he'll play lacrosse. He doesn't even know what he's having for dinner.

All Gendry knows is that in that moment all he wants is to kiss Arya.

She's just staring up at him with those eyes that cut through him like the steel they so closely resemble.

And he leans down.

He pauses an inch away from her lips. She blinks up at him, unflinching.

"Gendry?"

It comes out as a whisper yet it shatters his thoughts.

He sits up abruptly and pulls her up to sit beside him. "Yeah?"

"I think I'm gonna go. Tomorrow, I mean. I'm gonna go see Jon. Can you... could you maybe drive me? I don't need you to come in with me or anything, I just, I wanna know that you're there."

He looks at her stormy eyes that seem to be ever changing their shade, the ones that he sees every time he closes his eyes. She's trying not to cry. He always thought her eyes were most beautiful when she cries. They become this electric silver so bright it almost hurts to look at.

"Of course."

Maybe Arya's right. Maybe he is a stupid bull. Because he really doesn't know much.

All Gendry Baratheon knows is that he's in love with Arya Stark. And it won't end well.


	3. Chapter 3: Prison Sucks Balls

Prison sucks. It sucks balls.

That's all Jon can think as he stabs his fork into the slightly grey chicken that sat on his slightly grey plastic tray with a slightly suspicious grey stain on it.

The chicken matched his grey jumpsuit.

Seven hells, _everything_ matches his grey and black jumpsuit.

Prison sucks. Prison food sucks.

He looked around at the guys sitting at his table. Then he looked down at his bare bicep. Maybe he should get a tattoo.

"Hey, Sam! Do you think I'd look good with a tattoo?

One of the boys next to him, Pyp, grins. "Oh yeah, Snow. I think you'd look hot with a butterfly above your ass."

He shoulder checks Pyp and shakes his head at Sam's giggles and goes back to his probably non edible chicken.

"Okay, boys, listen up! If I call your name you've got visitors coming." The warden acts like he's announcing sex and edible food.

In Jon's opinion, Warden Thorne was condescending and always acted like he knew something you didn't. And it was seriously starting to get on Jon's nerves.

Prison sucks. Prison food sucks. Prison people suck.

No sex sucks. No decent food sucks.

Everything just sucks.

"Okay! Waters, L. Stone, Wylis, B. Stone, Flowers, Mott, Snow, Fern, , Tarly, Stark…"

Jon's head snaps up.

He wasn't supposed to have any visitors today. Sansa was watching Rickon, Bran had doctor's appointments all day and Robb had to work. Maybe Arya… He shakes his head. Santa Claus would come visit him before his baby sister did.

He knows that his sister hates him. He knows that. He understands that. And honestly, he kinda hates himself too.

It probably has something to do with her yelling that "I hate you!" over and over again as he was led away in handcuffs. Tears were streaming down her face and she was hysterical as Gendry struggled to pick up her trashing body and carry her away.

She had looked so broken. So lost.

And it was all his fault.

She may never forgive him.

Seven knows that he will never forgive himself.

Jon Snow has made a lot of mistakes in his life.

He's broken girls hearts without a second thought, and he's beaten kids up to the point where they're almost unrecognizable. He's almost flunked out of high school. Twice. He wasn't there when his father died.

And he can be an asshole.

Actually, he _is_ an asshole.

But Arya.

Arya was the one thing that Jon has ever done right. The one thing he didn't screw up.

That was, until three months ago when he was arrested for murdering Ramsey Bolton.

So maybe it's just Jon that sucks.

Jon watched from the back of line as the light above the door went from red to green.

The guys ahead shuffled forward. Some looked like they were dreading it. Most of them look like this was one good thing that happened all week. And maybe for them it was.

But not for Jon.

Because the one person he wanted to see wouldn't be waiting for him on the other side of that metal door.

Jon was the last one out the door.

It was probably his lawyer or maybe Sansa got out of babysitting. It was possible Uncle Benjen and Davos who were sitting at one of those cold metal tables.

But what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

And there, sitting at a metal table was a teenage girl with in an ripped black jeans and a messy black braid.

She was wearing a band t-shirt. Today it was The Clash. Jon's favorite band. He wonders if she did that on purpose. But knowing her, she threw it on this morning because it was the first thing she saw that was vaguely clean.

Her scuffed black Dr. Martens were tapping against the floor. She was nervous. Nervous to see him.

She didn't look any older. She still wore her red leather jacket. She still drummed her fingers and tapped her foot when she nervous.

She was exactly the same and yet completely different.

It had been three months since he had last seen her, but Jon would recognize those piercing grey eyes anywhere.

"Arya?"


End file.
